


Those Prying Eyes

by perfectlystrange



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, POV Third Person, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystrange/pseuds/perfectlystrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Civil War </p><p>While the rest of the Avengers are pushed into signing the accords and are still imprisoned in the raft, Steve and T'challa try to keep the UN and the US government's hands off Bucky who is still in Cryo. Meanwhile, an unlikely ally changes their chances and Tony can't get past the news of his parent's deaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To No Avail

Number four. The fourth interrogation in five days. The guard grabbed Clint's shoulder and shoved him into the chair and although he was facing one-way glass he glared unblinkingly into it. The door creaked open but he didn't move, didn't give anything in his expression. 

Ross nodded, "Barton."

 

Clint stared to the front.

 

"Where's Rogers, Clint?"

 

Clint could see he was getting desperate, he guessed that none of the others had given any information either.

 

"Don't you see? This is the only way out. This way you'll be able to see your family."

 

Clint's expression twitched but he remained silent, Ross saw this as a sign he was going in the right direction.

 

"You didn't think we knew about that?" Ross chuckled, he'd hit a nerve.

 

"Do you think," Clint paused and leant in, "that if we knew where Steve was, we would still be here?"

 

It had been the first thing he had said for days.

 

"I see, so you want me to believe that you don't know of his whereabouts."

 

Clint raised his eyebrow and gave Ross a look of utter contempt. If Ross was asking him, it meant that he had got nothing out of Sam and Ross was now exploring all options. 

 

"Surely you must have some idea, some clue on where he would go?" He turned away and looked into the glass, Clint wasn't sure who was on the other side but he hoped they were getting as frustrated as Ross.

 

"This isn't my first time Barton, we've had some of the world's most dangerous criminals locked in here."

 

Clint looked right into Ross' eye, "Have you ever had the Avengers here before?" By now he was on a roll. "Is this your idea of a plan, get us to sign the accords by interrogating us? To get us to betray one of our own?"

 

He signalled to the guard, "Lock him up," the guard moved silently towards Clint and he stood up before the guard had the chance to grab him. He smirked as they passed Ross and then they were walking down the corridor again. It pleased him how twitchy they were of keeping them all together. They reached his cell and he was shoved into the dank and musty room. The guard's keycard buzzed and he locked the door with a metal key too. Clint took his usual position on the bed and lay transfixed staring at the ceiling.

 

It was three days before Clint heard anything interesting, it was late at night and the usually silent hallways were met with several grunts followed by heavy thuds against the ground. He waited, being as still as possible listening for any advances. He saw that Scott and Sam were close to the bars looking closely towards the exit. Thirty seconds passed before anything else happened. A figure passed in front of his cell and stopped, they didn't have the same stance as the guards but they were tall.

 

"Steve?"

 

He motioned to stay quiet, "They haven't noticed anything yet we need to keep it that way as long as possible."

 

Clint nodded and Steve continued to unlock the door, once he was out he continued to Sam's cell, then Scott's.

 

"Where's Wanda?"

 

"A secure unit, double the security," Sam whispered, he could see Steve calculating his next move.

 

Steve hadn't planned for that and they didn't have the time but if he left Wanda now the chance of getting her out would be considerably less. Then again, he now had three extra people.

 

"What's the plan Captain America?" Scott said, a little too excitedly.

 

"Steve," — it was Sam, Steve looked his way, "We can get Wanda later we don't have the people or the time right now."

 

Steve creased his brow and his eyes softened, it was all he needed to make the decision. "We can't leave her here... where are they keeping her?"

 

He heard Sam sigh but he didn't object.

 

"Um, not to be negative but we don't even have our gear," Scott mentioned tentatively. Steve looked across to him.

 

"Not yet."

 

 

Walking down the dimly lit corridor without his shield, Steve felt unusually vulnerable and he sensed without their gear the others did too. He kept his breathing steady and stayed close behind Sam, he could see the end but there weren't any guards. His gut clenched and he looked behind him, there was no sign that anyone had noticed the disappearance but that could change at any moment. Once they reached the door, Steve used the keycard and pin code. The heavy metal door unlocked and with ease, he kicked it open.

 

At once the guards on the other side were in motion. One went to sound the alarm but he didn't make it far. Steve's breath was ragged and he ran towards the cell opening where Wanda sat slumped against the wall. He hardly recognized her and she didn't make a move to look up. Her knotted hair was covering her face but he could see how tired she was. Once he was inside he immediately started unbuckling the straight jacket, whoever had tightened it was extremely nervous about letting her loose- and rightly so. As the last buckle released he began to take it off but she made no move to help him, she looked as if she had lost all hope. An alarm jolted him out of his drifting thoughts and he brushed the hair away from her eyes. Only then did Wanda look up and it seemed as though she had only just noticed what was happening.

 

"Can you stand?" Steve's voice was soft and Wanda gave a small nod. He pulled her into a hug but she didn't trust her hands. So much destruction had been caused by them and she carried the guilt within her fingers. Clint noticed that Steve had gotten her free and moved towards them both.

 

He turned to Wanda, "Hey," he broke into a gentle smile, "you're okay, we're here."

 

She smiled back and it felt good but also as if her face had forgotten how to smile and was only just remembering. Wanda motioned towards Clint and nestled her head on his shoulder who was slightly surprised by it but wrapped his arms around her. He felt the rise and fall of her chest becoming steadier and her body soften, the tension slipping away.

 

"We gotta go, they're coming for us," Clint pulled away but kept an arm around her while the alarm wailed on. The reinforcements couldn't be far behind. 

 

Wanda lifted her hands up cautiously and red sparks appeared from her fingertips, as untrustworthy they might be, her fingers were the ones to get everyone out. The door crashed open but the guards barely made it through before she had fired the energy, all the anger and rage that had been kept in the straight jacket came barreling out at once. The guards twitched before falling ungraciously to the ground. She felt the room for the rest of the guards energy and latched on, propelling them against the wall, it was as easy as throwing out the trash.

 

"I guess we don't have to worry about getting out anymore," Scott quipped.

 

Steve gazed over to Wanda, he was fixed in his spot. Her expression was fierce, nothing like the girl he had seen five minutes ago but he wasn't complaining. The five of them ran back through the entrance dogging the several guards piled up motionless in the doorway. They arrived at the dock without many surprises and Steve wrenched open a helicopter door. No one needed a second invitation to enter. As Sam climbed into the co-pilot's chair, Ross appeared in the entrance. His frame was illuminated by the flickering light behind him making him look more menacing than he actually was. Steve didn't hesitate as grabbed a piece of metal piping and threw it against the lock, he then clambered into the pilot's seat and started the engine. The raft's only entrance and their exit slowly began to open. Ross hadn't given up he was on his way towards the helicopter but Steve had already begun to rise. He made a sharp turn and the tail of the chopper swung into the side of the Secretary who was struck into the wall. Steve didn't waste anytime exiting the prison and directed the helicopter into the dark sky.

 

Fog engulfed them and below the waves crashed viciously against the building. Steve increased their speed and he became more determined as he continued to their destination with added haste. 

 

It didn't take long for everything to hit the media, it never did and as always it made it seem so much worse than it was. Somehow, though, it captured the brutality this time. They couldn't seem to exaggerate anything because everything had gone wrong. It appeared, however, that the UN were trying their hardest to keep the recent escape from the raft as hush as they could. Steve had barely seen or heard of anything that alluded to their disappearance and even then, they were mostly just rumours. It was too risky to go back to the Avengers headquarters instead, they had headed to Bucky's apartment but they weren't planning to stay long. It was Steve's plan to head to T'challa's where they would be sheltered from the media-for the most part. Despite that, something made Steve question whether it would be a good move. T'challa still had Bucky so if they were to head there now and followed, it would lead the UN and the US government straight to him.

 

While the evening was beginning to turn to night, the heat hadn’t seemed to change. The sunbeams shone through the only window in the apartment and illuminated the lines of dust. Outside, the sky had already changed hue, no longer dust-filled and dry but a mix of deep reds and orange that stood out on the now silhouetted buildings. The news murmured in the otherwise silent room though no one was paying any attention. 

_“…Steve Rogers was seen earlier this week breaking fellow Avengers out of the raft, meanwhile, the UN still search for assassin James Barnes. Secretary Ross believes he has a lead…”_ Steve was broken out of his trance-like state and continued to listen.

 


	2. The Usual Way

The thick rainforest blocked out most of the moonlight and only a few rays made it onto the vine covered path. The UN hadn’t found out what T’challa was hiding yet but they were dangerously close. Tony was still working with them which meant that Steve would have half the time. Any phone call could be traced so all he had to go off was that Bucky’s face wasn’t plastered all over the news but he was growing more anxious by the second. He still had no shield and was out in the open of the Wakanda rainforest but he trusted himself to get to the base before anyone else did, Bucky was counting on that.

 

Steve picked up his pace and branches snapped with each quickening step. Shadows were shifted delicately as they flickered across the trail with the warm breeze.When he finally approached the towering building he could immediately tell something was off. Standing next to the panther statue, it no longer felt like a figure of protection but one of despair. Despite what the pit in his stomach was telling him, Steve moved on making his way to the less known entrance T’challa had shown him. He took the steps two at a time looking down at the stairs so he could delay seeing the damage even if it was only for a few more seconds. 

 

Steve froze and his face went slack. It was quiet, dangerously quiet. The last time he was there, the place had been bustling with people but now there was nothing. He walked down the hall, his echoing footsteps being the only sound. There wasn’t even a hum of machines or the buzz of lights. Once he got to the lab, he saw a single piece of paper folded on the table and knew he was too late. 

 

_Steve,_

_I knew at some point you’d make it here and find the place deserted._

_I’d say I was sorry but that means nothing because, through a letter, they are just empty words._

_I can’t guarantee that Barnes won't be harmed, or woken up but for now, he’s safe._

_Anyway, I’m rambling now and should probably go before Ross catches me in here._

_-Tony_

_p.s they wouldn’t have come if you hadn’t broken into the raft._

 

Steve read the words and let them completely sink in, even then he still had so many questions. Why had Tony let him know all this? How had they found this place and gotten in? Did they have T’challa? But Steve couldn't begin to try and answer them because guilt was taking over, he couldn’t even move. It had him rooted to the spot because they had taken him. They had taken Bucky and it was his fault, it was his responsibility to watch over him and now all Steve could do was fixate on the empty space that was once filled with the cryo chamber. 

 

**~**

Steve didn’t know how much time had passed but he still couldn’t move. He was sat in the centre of the lab unable to conjure up any sort of plan. He guessed that they had taken Bucky to the raft-although that would be strategically idiotic, he wouldn’t put it past them, though. The crumpled piece of paper lay beside him as he now stared into space. 

 

Off in the distance, he heard a loud _bang- a door maybe?_ He was up on his feet in an instant. The footsteps grew nearer and Steve cautiously moved towards them, they must have been in a nearby corridor because there was no change in direction. Steve kept his back flat against the wall, steadying his unusually heavy breathing. When the stranger came round the corner, they were wearing a tight black suit embroidered with silver plating- _T'challa._

 

“Steve?” T’calla’s voice was weary but he maintained his posture. Steve didn’t reply but his shoulders relaxed a little. T’challa removed his helmet and placed it under his arm.

“I am sorry,” T’challa paused, “by the time I got here, they already had a gun to your friend’s head. They told me if I took another step, they would shoot.”

Steve nodded and looked up it was only then that he noticed blood freshly dripping from T’challa’s temple.

“I take it you didn’t listen?” Steve asked.

“I did but they didn’t specify how long I wasn’t to move.”

Steve gave a half laugh and his expression lightened. Tony had already confirmed that Bucky was alive.

“Do you have any idea where they would have taken him?” Steve asked tentatively.

“No, but Tony was with them. He will know.”

“We don’t really have the opportunity to ask.”

“Tony is filled with grief and set on revenge, once he lets that go, he will realize what a mistake he has made.”

“Yeah well, we can't wait until then.”

T’challa’s brow creased in concern, “You are carrying guilt, I can see it in your eyes. This wasn’t your fault Steve.”

“It sure feels like it.” Steve’s twisting insides and pounding head reminded him of that. 

"Maybe," T'challa was pondering each of his words, "the way out of this one is the political way, not the hero way."

Steve gave him a questioning look so he continued. "If you go and once again break your friend out, it will not be long before they come searching for him again and you will soon loose places to hide. Instead, you could face them head on and reason with them."

"You want me to just walk through the front door?"

"It is just a suggestion."

 

** ~ **

The pristine white pillars shone with the beating sun. The Wakandan safe-house looked more like a small palace with the marble floors and high ceilings. 

"You realize this is probably another trap? It's why they took him, they want you to show yourself." Clint was having a hard time believing that Steve actually thought this was a good plan. 

"I'm not asking you all to come with me, in fact, it's probably best if you didn't." The spark in Steve’s eye was rekindling with every second. Hopelessness was fading away as quickly as it came. 

Sam crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow in defiance, "You think we're just going to sit back and watch from the sidelines? I thought you knew me better." Sam gave him a sideways grin.

"I'm not planning to go in there fighting, Sam." Steve knew he was fighting a losing battle with their stubbornness. 

"You think they're going to just let you walk in and talk to them?" 

"I don't know what to expect." 

A loud slurp interrupted the conversation and they all turned to face a smoothie-drinking Scott who was now sheepishly looking down.

"Uh, sorry."

No one spoke for some time. They were weighing their options, it was like discussing the accords all over again. A tension was slowly building in the room and Steve was becoming increasingly more frustrated.

"I think it's a good idea," Wanda spoke out of the blue and looked as if she immediately regretted it but continued. "We've fought our way in and out of so many situations we have forgotten that the usual way would be to talk."

"I also think, that Steve and T'challa should go alone."

 

** ~ **

It felt odd walking towards the UN home base without being in handcuffs or guards anxiously surrounding them. Eventually, the group had come round to the plan that Wanda had suggested and had sent Steve off side-by-side with the Wakandan King. Though they both had suited up, their stances were as non-threatening as two supersoldiers could be. Once they were at the entrance, it didn't take long before the guards registered who they were and immediately went into attack mode. 

"Freeze!" A guard pointed a gun towards them but Steve could see his forehead was already slick and his arm's unsteady. Both he and T'challa slowly raised their hands in surrender. 

"We mean you no harm," T'challa called softly.

The guard signalled to the one beside him and they left swiftly inside. He had his gun trained loyally at Steve's head who noticed that he had not moved it once towards T'challa.  _No point in starting a war with the most technically advanced country_. 

It was less than a minute before the guard arrived back this time with Senator Ross and Everett Ross. Neither of them looked particularly surprised on the fact that they had come unarmed.

"Captain Rogers," the Senator looked to Steve then, to T'challa, "Your Highness," they both bowed. 

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Everett asked. 

"We're here to talk," Steve shifted his weight.

"This couldn't possibly concern Bucky Barnes could it?" Everett replied attempting at being condescending but failing. Steve flinched at the venom Bucky had been said with. 

"Well, do come in."

Steve and T'challa were escorted by several twitchy guards through the long hallway. They arrived at the control room where Steve had been forced to watch Bucky be interrogated while being completely helpless. A number of heads turned and Steve noticed the fiery hair from a mile off. Tony was with her but only Natasha looked remotely pleased to see them. She watched as they were shown into an identical office. Once he was seated he looked over to see clear apprehension written across her face. Despite his indifferent attitude, Tony followed her into the office. Natasha hugged Steve tightly and she could feel his body loosen slightly.

"Miss Romanoff, this is no concern of yours." Senator Ross snapped.

"Anything to do with the Avengers is our concern," she looked over to Tony who didn't move. No one objected when she sat down defiantly, Tony followed suit like a sulky child who had been called down to dinner. Neither of the Ross' spoke and T'challa saw this as an invitation to talk.

"In your country, what is the process when someone commits murder?"

"It would be to take them to court where they would be put on trial." Everett replied and then it dawned on him, "You're not seriously suggesting we put Barnes on trial? We are talking about an assassin, a trained killer!" 

Steve looked towards Natasha who looked extremely uncomfortable but she swallowed hard and maintained a plain face. 

"No, we are talking about a person, a person who had no control over his actions," T'challa remained unnervingly calm. 

"No way are we taking him out of cryo until it is safe to do so." 

"I understand, surely with the resources, you'll find a way to wipe the programming." He purposely looked towards Tony who shifted in his seat.

"You're acting as if I've already agreed to it."

"I believe it was Wakanda who called for the need of the accords in the first place was it not?" T'challa responded. Steve was impressed with how he was diverting the conversation.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all, that would be against Wakandan values."

Both Everett and the Senator looked deeply unsettled in their seats no longer looking as if they had the catch of the day. 

"What's the difference, Senator?" It was the first thing Natasha had said. 

"The difference?"

"Between Barnes and I?"

" _You,_ are on our side."

"Not originally."

"Natasha, you don't have to.." Steve didn't want to make it worse for her. Concern was softening his features and she smiled gently. Tony looked as if he was holding back a building rage. Steve could still see he was still full of grief, torn between helping his friends and assisting his enemy. The room fell silent, calculations were being made and Steve was held in suspense. Everett and the Senator were caught with shattering a positive relationship with the most advanced country and letting the most dangerous assassin free. 

"If-  _if,_ we agreed, would he join the Avengers?" 

"I can't speak for him, sir," Steve replied, a sliver of hope growing. 

"Sir, you can't  _actually_ be considering this?" Tony's fury all came out in those eight words.

"Is that what you'd say if it were me, Tony?" Natasha looked genuinely hurt.

"No." It was barely a whisper.  


"It's not your decision, either of you," the Senator flared. He motioned to the door and both Natasha and Tony calmly left the room. 

The Senator pondered the options for a considerable time, was he about to let this one slide? Or show the people of the world that justice _is_ served? If it would get people to trust the UN again, Ross was prepared to do anything. 

 

** ~ **

Relief washed over him in waves. Everytime Steve thought he had calmed, another ripple came in. In the end, he guessed that the UN didn't want to give up their most powerful ally. He didn't care what was behind their motivations- not for now. All he could think of now was the moment they would allow him to wake up Bucky. He played countless scenarios through his mind although he knew it would still be a long time before he awoke. 

He looked so peaceful in the cryo chamber, it's more peace than he would get out here. Steve spent a considerable time staring in the dark room that the chamber was in. Steve wondered if he could dream in there but he hoped not. He doubted Bucky had many happy memories to reminisce. Steve was so zoned out that he hadn't seen Natasha come up beside him. He jumped slightly when he snapped back from his drifting, self-torturous thoughts.   

"Hey Nat," he murmured.

"You're not supposed to be in here," she replied half-heartedly. 

"Are you going to get me to come out?"

She almost laughed and then looked away. When she looked back, she smiled. Her whole face softened and her eyes seemed brighter. 

"Thanks for earlier." He hoped his gratefulness came through his tired features. They had said that the serum would stop him from ever getting tired. They never mentioned mentally. Natasha shrugged and tilted her head a little.

"You would have done it for me."

They both faced front again and although Steve was thankful for Natasha's company, he was glad for the silence. At some point, Nat rubbed his shoulder before turning to leave, before she did she uttered, "Ross gave you two weeks to find a lawyer," then she was gone and Steve was left alone with his thoughts again. He wasn't sure he was pleased of that or not, his mind had chosen to have a battle with itself. 

 

When his logical mind finally pulled through and could no longer take the deafening silence, Steve placed his palm on the cold, frosted glass. 

"I'm coming back for you, Buck." 

 


	3. Coffee Doesn't Do Anything in the Long Run

The compound felt explicitly empty, the room of chatter lay completely still. A building that was built to house a team wasn’t even half filled.  _I don’t like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself,_ the letter had read but even now Tony wasn’t sure this was any better. At the same time, though, it was. 

He barely slept anymore, his eyes were sunken and he found himself with a constant dull headache. The sleep deprivation had long since kicked in and he could hardly be useful with his time awake either.

 

With the lack of outside street lights, in the dark, the building was almost pitch black save for the faint trickle of moonlight laced with shadows. Tony stumbled down the spiralling staircase as he made his way to the lab. He hadn’t been down for several days and everything was untouched. The battered shield hung in the centre of the wall, the deep scratches and battered paint stood wildly out of place. The only thing that matched it was his newly damaged suit. Next to it, stood the latest development.

 

He didn’t know where he was going, or why he’d left the compound but Tony felt an urge to get away from the silence. To find a noisier silence; one that he could look upon from the sky so he could become detached from the world even if just for a moment. It was a while before he came to any city but he could see it coming from the ambient glow that it emitted. The rush of cars and buzz of buildings came closer and closer.

 

Inside the diner, a tired looking waitress rested her head in her palm and only stirred when Tony was right at the counter. He ordered a coffee and a largely iced doughnut then sat down in a booth by the window. It was unsurprisingly empty at such an hour, only two other tables were occupied.His order arrived and Tony carefully took a sip of the scalding coffee. It was extremely bitter but he wasn’t expecting much.

 

“Are you Iron Man?” the voice was quiet and uncertain and Tony slowly glanced up to find a small girl beaming at him.

Tony tilted his head, “What makes you say that?”

“You just look like him.”

“I’m not wearing the suit.”

“You’re still Iron Man without the suit on,” the girl looked confused.

Tony gave a small smile, “I’m just Tony without it.”

“Well,” she thought, “you’re a superhero either way,” she said defiantly.

A sharp voice interjected before he could reply, “He isn’t a hero honey, heroes save people.”  “ _Tony Stark_ creates more destruction than peace.”

The woman glared towards him before grabbing her daughter’s hand and walking away. The girl purposely pulled away and frowned. They left the diner without another word.

 

Tony finished the rest of his coffee in silence, he got half way through his doughnut before he was full. The love for food he used to have had been replaced by the feeling that eating was nothing more than a chore. He stalled leaving the diner until the point where the waitress started giving him looks and Tony made a move towards the door. 

 

** ~  
**

The compound was still relatively quiet when he got back. Tony only heard a few murmurs through the walls. He followed the noise and soon realized it was coming from the gym. The treadmill was whirring at a slow pace. Rhodey was sweating profusely and breathing deeply.

Tony watched for a while before Rhodey stopped.

 

“You were up early,” Rhodey grabbed his towel and stepped down. He must have seen Tony’s expression because he sighed and added, “You didn’t go to sleep did you?”

“No.”

He sighed again, “Why you doing this to yourself Tony?” he looked frustrated, disappointed, maybe. 

After a long pause, Tony replied, “I don’t know.” His shoulders dropped and he leant his head on the doorframe. 

“You need to get some sleep, even if it does make you nocturnal,” Rhodey said with a slight smirk.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not _fine_ you can barely stand up, and not because your legs don’t work.” He gestured to his braces strapped to his buckling legs. 

“Come on the great _Tony Stank_ needs rest too.”

“You’re not still going on about that are you?” Tony broke a small smile which was matched by a grin. 

“What? You don’t like that Mr Stank?”

“That was _one time…”_

“Yeah, that’s all it takes,” Rhodey smiled and Tony couldn’t help but return one.

“Alright, ‘warmachinerox’… just remember, you started it.” 

Dread passed on Rhodey’s face with a hint of embarrassment. He’d got himself in a box which kept him quiet. 

 

Tony watched Rhodey slowly made his way to the wheelchair that was in the corner of the gym. He still didn’t have enough strength to walk all day so much to Tony’s dismay, he’d got a wheelchair as a temporary solution. Rhodey sat down ungraciously and gave out a slow sigh which only inflated Tony’s guilt again. Though he knew logically it wasn’t his fault and that Rhodey knew what he was getting himself into when he signed, Tony’s subconscious wasn’t letting him off that easily. Giving him constant reminders on how much he had messed up that he felt through headaches and nausea.

 

By now, Rhodey could almost read Tony like a book that he kept open, written clear across his features, his stance, how he held himself. Though he’d seen some rough times, this was definitely an all time low. Tony walked stooped in oversized hoodies that gave the impression of an unimpressed teen, not a scientific genius with an ego to match. Rhodey wasn’t complaining about the ego, however, but it _was_ what made Tony himself. The lively spark was hidden behind the sunken sleep-deprived eyes and coffee-buzzed brain. 

 

“Honestly though, when was the last time you slept?” Rhodey asked, “ _Properly,”_ he added as Tony opened his mouth to speak who snapped it shut again.

“About four days ago,” Tony finally replied.

“Four days, Uh-huh you think you can get by on heaps of coffee forever?”

“Probably not,” Tony shrugged.

“Tony! You have to take care of yourself.”

“That’s not a priority right now.”

“Not a priori-“ Rhodey sighed again, ”You’re not going to get anything done in that state.”

“My parent’s killer is out there, about to have a trial _which_ he could be freed from and you’re babbling on about me!” Tony snapped. 

“Oh, that’s what this is about,” Rhodey said, resigned. 

“Amongst other things, yes.” 

“Put on trial, meaning it will be a fair decision. You can only see what the judge decides. Are you going to speak against him?”

“No, I mean I can’t.”

“That in itself shows that you don’t actually want this trial to go through.”

Hurt flashed across Tony’s face but Rhodey kept a neutral expression, the last thing he wanted to do was aggregate the situation.

“I’m going to pick up some things from my place. It shouldn’t take too long.”

Rhodey didn’t trust what he meant by that but just nodded and let him pass by. 

 

** ~ **

Although the speed limit signs showed that it was a 70mph zone, Tony saw this a guideline and stuck to his preferred speed of 90mph. The day proved to be a warm one so the roof was down. The wind howled through his ears and his hair went wildly out of place; not that it was ever _in_ place.

 

The music blasted down the highway, the sound transitioning into a constant beat as he drove by. At the speed he was going, it wasn't long before he had pulled into the circular, paved driveway. Tony entered the passcode and the glass doors slid open. 

_"Welcome back Sir,"_  FRIDAY's voice echoed through the hollow room.

"Thanks, FRIDAY. Anything exciting happen while I was away?" Tony paused, "Didn't think so...I'll be downstairs."

 

Tony routed around countless stacked boxes before he found the worn briefcase. The initials  _H.S._  were sewn on the front in an old-style font. Inside were several worn files, the edges were rough and curled with age. When Coulson had given him everything of his father's, Tony wasn't sure the significance of keeping it. Most of it was useless plans and personal documents. He was glad he decided against throwing it all out. The file he was most interested in was that of a military personnel information document. The S.H.I.E.L.D insignia was stamped on the front which had faded into an almost unrecognizable symbol. As he opened one up, a small cloud of dust escaped, revealing a wad of yellowing pages. 

_ JAMES MONTGOMERY FALSWORTH _  lay at the top of the page. Tony opened two more folders in the case before reaching the one he needed.

 _ JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES. _  His smiling photo was a ghost of who Tony saw now. In the top corner was stamped 'Deceased' confirming these were original copies of the files. 

"He  _did_ know them," Tony whispered to the empty room. Not that he was getting any new information, Tony had already heard of the Howling Commandos long before the arrival of the Winter Soldier. 

He stumbled to the sofa still clutching the file as he sunk into the plush fabric. Soon, his eyes became extremely heavy and eventually he gave in, the pain around his eyelids slipping away the longer he kept them shut.

 

"Tony, TONY! Are you even here?" A loud and demanding voice instantly snapped him out of sleep. It was coming from upstairs and it was undoubtedly recognizable, which only meant trouble. Tony had no idea how long he'd been asleep but from the fuzzy head, he guessed it been a while.

"Pepper?" Tony clambered up the staircase to find Pepper frantically searching the house.

"He called you? Why did he call you?," he asked in slight disbelief.

Pepper turned and her expression completely changed, "He couldn't exactly come himself, could he?"

"You look awful," she said more quietly.

"You don't."

"Thank you, but I'm not the one depriving myself of sleep and drinking unhealthy amounts of coffee."

"At least it's not alcohol anymore," he replied with a shrug.

“What are you doing here anyway Tony?”

“What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here? This is my place.”

“Rhodey said you were living in the compound now. He also said that you would only be here for a couple of hours, seven hours ago.”

“I’ve been here seven hours?”

“Apparently.” 

“Huh.”

“Come on, let's get you home.” 

 

Tony didn’t object, just followed like a lost child exhausted from the day. He tucked the file underhis arm and shuffled towards the door. He rummaged in his hoodie pocket and pulled out the car keys.

 

“No, uh-huh, you are not fit to be driving.” Pepper motioned towards her car. 

“I managed to get over here,” he protested.

“Who knows how many accidents you almost caused,” her tone became stern. Tony grumbled but opened the passenger door anyway. Arguing with Pepper was like trying to reason with a storm.

 

Pepper determinedly looked forward, purposely not glancing to the side or towards him. She did, however, slowly take her hand off the wheel and grabbed his which he had rested on the middle compartment. She didn’t move it and didn’t say a word as they soundlessly drove down the highway. Tony felt disconnected as if the world had been dulled and muted for a moment. It was probably the sleep finally catching up to him. 

 

  **~**

 

The office was situated at the very end of the hallway. It lay empty and untouched as it had been for several weeks. The paint on the door had begun to peel away but that was far from the most interesting part. The room had seen some action and heated turmoil. Though at one point it had been constantly busy, the silence filled all three compartments. One case was all it took to make the lawyer firm both famous and abandoned. The residents that once filled the space had power within their words and it took them down so perfectly and tore them apart much like the clients that would soon so ironically bring them together again. For now, however, it would stay just as it was with idle mugs and ticking clocks until such a time as the door opens and a new chaos begins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know! It's been ages since an update but I've had a lot of things going on.  
> It should be more regular updates now...
> 
> -Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I love reading comments :)


	4. That's No Way to Introduce Yourself

He felt the change in the air before it had a chance to settle. Heard it in almost slow motion as the punch came towards his back so dodged his torso sideways. The man attacking was breathing heavily, his heart beating overtime. It gave the fighter an extra indicator on where the guy was. The man gave no effort to silent his feet, although the fighter doubted that the man was even able to if he tried. From the sound of the steps, he guessed that he was just under six feet but from the rapid heart rate probably slightly overweight. The great thud against the wall and grunt that closely followed established that the man was quickly wearing out. The fighter heard no movement and the man’s heart rate was slowing down; he was most likely unconscious. 

 

**~**

Who on earth was he going to find as a lawyer? Sure many people would probably be lining up to serve _Captain America_ but he needed someone to help Steve Rogers. It was such a domestic thing to need and Steve was completely lost on where to start. Who on earth was going to sympathize with a super assassin who the last time was in the media had supposedly bombed a press conference?

 

Steve pulled the laptop towards him and lifted the top up. He saw that it was already turned on and opened a new page. It wasn’t too hard to navigate the new tech as everyone had teased. The cursor blinked steadily on the screen and Steve stared unblinkingly back. 

 

“Trying to figure out how to google something?” Sam’s voice came through the darkness behind him.

“Trying to figure out what to search,” Steve replied without looking away from the screen. Sam stood next to him and peered down to the empty search bar.

“You still looking for a lawyer?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” he was silent for a while, “I may know a place.”

Steve looked back skeptically, “You realize who they’ll have to represent?”

“Yeah, they’ve had some controversial cases in the past,” Sam shrugged.

“Who?”

 

**_~_ **

Before he knew it, Steve was sitting next to Sam, both on their way to Hell’s Kitchen. He hadn’t been back since he’d been in the current century but visited a couple of times before _Project Rebirth._ Brooklyn had too many memories— Hell’s Kitchen only had one, but it was the most important one; The nondescript alley in Hell’s Kitchen, the three kids taking turns throwing punches, his resignation that he was going be bruised the next day, the fact that it only made him punch harder. The cramps building up in his arms as his strength was crushed by half of theirs, a kid not much older than him swiping all three with one blow. The neat dark hair swept into the boy’s face which contrasted against the light greenish grey of his eyes. The boy who had no idea what he was getting himself into being best friends with Steve Rogers. The boy who Steve was now returning to the same city for.

 

The bus rattled as they drove over a bump in the road, Steve was in the window seat and glanced towards the nearing buildings. The large shadows that were cast from them, the windows that caught the light, the branches of trees on the sidewalk swaying ever so slightly from the faint breeze. Another jolt sent Steve’s shoulder into Sam who was staring deeply at his phone. 

 

Sam noticed him staring and offered the phone. 

“Here, take a look.”

Steve took it and started reading the headline across the top: _FRANK CASTLE VS THE PEOPLE._ Steve scrolled through the article, it was an overview of a case that had taken place the year before. 

“Sam, the firm lost,” Steve waited for an explanation.

“Only just, and the Castle hadn’t been extremely cooperative anyway.”

Steve didn’t reply, he trusted Sam and if he thought they should give it a try, he’d be willing to give it a shot. It wasn’t as if he had much of an alternative. 

 

Sam pressed the button on the rail next to him and the bus slowed down pulling into the stop ahead. They stepped off and headed down the busy street. Side by side, both remained silent as Sam navigated them through the rush of people. The two soon arrived in front of a tall great building labelled with several businesses that occupied the building. Once they were on the third floor, it became apparent they weren't going to a law firm, instead, _New York Bulletin_ was written in fancy lettering across the top of the door. Sam opened the door and they were met by the constant typing of computer keys. A man with a large beard— which compromised for the bald head noticed their arrival and walked over.

“Robert Delaware?” the man asked. Steve stared blankly but Sam was able to reply.

“Uh, no, we’re here to see Karen Page?” 

Recognition crossed his face, “Oh, she never tells me anything, I wasn’t aware she had an appointment today. Come right through,” he gestured to an office at the end of the hall.

Steve looked to Sam who was already glancing his way. The man knocked on the closed door, the reply from the other side was swift. 

“Got two men here to see you,” he replied as he opened the door, he left once they both were inside. Steve closed the door and studied the woman sat at the desk. She had long blonde hair which was pulled into a loose bun that looked as if it had been done in a hurry. Her expression was questioning but far from unfriendly. 

“How can I help you both?”

“You were involved in the Frank Castle case right?” Sam took over as per usual for the particular day. Karen’s shoulders slumped slightly and let out a small sigh.

“You’re not after an interview are you? Look, I don’t work for the firm anymore,” she gestured to the room which was already enough explanation. 

“No,” Sam gave a short laugh. “We’re not reporters.”

“I know,” she replied. “You don’t have the attitude.” 

“We were wondering though, do you have your former colleagues contacts by chance.”

She raised an eyebrow slightly, “You’d be lucky if you got them in the same room as each other let alone work a case together.” 

“That bad huh,” Sam chuckled softly. “Would there be _any_ chance that they would do so? Any motivator?”

“I wouldn’t say there was no chance, just a very slim one.”

“How reassuring,” Steve replied. Karen met his gaze and he softened his. 

“Would you be able to talk to them, at all?” Desperation had begun to creep in and Steve was doing all he could to push it out. 

“Look, they don’t answer my calls anymore. It’s been months since I've seen either of them. After the Castle case, neither of us really wanted anything to do with each other.” 

She moved in her seated and studied them both, “but, since it’s likely the only firm stupidenough to take on another large case in the span of twelve months, I’ll see what I can do,” Karen stood up and grabbed her coat from the hook. “Wait here.” She walked out the office towards the man from earlier they talked for a couple of minutes before Karen came back in the office and signalled to them to follow. Both Steve and Sam were momentarily lost for words and were rooted to the spot.

 

Once the three of them were outside, Karen hailed a cab and it was mere seconds until one pulled to the curb. Karen got in the front which forced the other two to squeeze in the back. She gave the driver an address who responded with a nod. The cab pulled up to yet another tall grey building, this one, however, looked much more rundown than the previous. Steve wanted to ask how she knew it was a large case they had on the cards but wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer. She had most likely recognized them even if she was giving no indication of doing so. The hallway inside was as you expected from the exterior of the building. The cheap wallpaper was peeling around the edges and it was dimly lit. A single bulb hand in the centre on the end of a long cord. Karen had determination in her stride as she led them through. The rapping of her heels sounded louder in the confined space. They reached a door next to the staircase and she wasted no time as she knocked demandingly on the door. They waited. Steve heard no movement on the other side. Karen knocked again, clearly distrusting the lack of sound from the resident. She turned around and fished into her bag pulling out a business card and notepad. She handed the business card to Steve and took the pen off the end of the notepad.

“Here’s my card if you need to contact me,” She then handed the notepad and pen to Sam. “If I find anything, I’ll let you know— if you want to give me your contact.”

 

Sam nodded and scribbled his number on the sheet before handing it back. “Thank you,” Steve caught eye contact. “I hope this can mend your relationship with your colleagues too,” Steve added, he really was grateful, he could see how much she relented coming. Karen smiled but it was void of happiness, “Me too.” 

 

Karen started to turn away but caught herself and looked back, “Do you guys have a place to stay? There’s a cheap hotel by my place its one of the few nice ones round here.” She looked lost in thought and sighed, “Or if you don’t mind the floor, my place is free of charge.” 

 

“That's very kind-“ Steve was cut off by Sam, “If you really don’t mind, the floor sounds great.” Steve glared, “We can just get a room?” 

 

“Honestly, even the best hotels around here aren’t worth staying in,” Karen interrupted before they were in full-scale bickering, she appeared to be entertained by the whole thing. Sam purposely looked to Steve who just shrugged in resignation. 

Karen shook her head in amusement, “Okay, well I have to get back to work but I get off at 5, then we can head over.”

She was already halfway down the stairs before the two made any move. 

 

** ~ **

Steve heard the brawling before he saw it, and even then it took him a bit to find the source of the grunts. He looked to the roof of a building that was level with the rest in height. He had been in search for the alley and gone at night to avoid recognition but now he noticed a high-intensity fight. Steve found an outdoor staircase that led to the rooftop and soon saw that this was not just a regular street fight. One man was in casual street clothes if not a little rugged, the other person, however, was dressed in some sort of suit not dissimilar to the one he wore inmissions. Steve stayed back and observed, the person in the red suit was a skilled fighter, they moved with a captivating grace, dodging blows before the man had a chance to make them. The suited fighter was wearing a helmet with what seemed to be horns on either side. They asked the man a question but Steve didn’t catch it. They made a quick strike to the chin and the man crashed to the floor at an unnatural angle and surprising speed. 

 

“I don’t appreciate people sneaking up on me like that,” the fighter said with a gruff voice, he puffed out a breath and quickly inhaled, obviously short of breath.

“Fair enough,” Steve replied. “Just came to see what all the fuss I heard was about.”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“It sort of is if you’re beating up civilians for no good reason.”

The man behind the mask chuckled at the stranger using the word civilian.

“Is that so?” he questioned. “You’re not from around these parts are you?”

“Not recently,” Steve responded defensively. He was quickly getting tired of the stranger’s apparent arrogance. The fighter nodded slowly then suddenly took off towards the opposite ledge. Steve’s reflexes responded by following him. Before they reached the edge, Steve grabbed the back of the suit and pulled them back. They coughed landing on the side of their face, clearly caught off guard at Steve’s speed. The fighter took a swing and Steve only narrowly missed it. Steve thought about fighting back but decided against it. He dropped his hands and backed up. 

“Don’t follow me,” the fighter spat. Steve didn’t. Instead, he made his way back to Karen’s apartment, losing the motivation to find the alleyway he had been searching for before. Both Sam and Karen were both asleep and Steve didn’t hesitate to crash on the foam mattress in the middle of the floor. It was the easiest sleep he’d had for ages. 

 

He was awoken by the sound of rustling sleeping bags. Steve slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light. He found Sam deflating his own mattress who smiled when he saw Steve was awake. It was closely followed by a frown. 

“Can you go one night without getting new bruises?” Sam asked quizzically. Karen heard them and came into the living room. She raised both eyebrows, clearly as confused as Sam was. 

“How’d you get those?” Karen stared in disbelief.

“Had a run-in with a masked guy, he had _horns_ on his helmet,” Steve realized the hilarity of the whole thing. Sam let out a laugh, “Horns?” Steve nodded. He looked at Karen who's expression had changed to concern, “You just met Daredevil.” She said matter-of-factly.

“That’s what he calls himself?” Sam marvelled. 

“More like, the city gave him the name.” 

“Who knew, Hell’s Kitchen has their own hero.”

“He’s a vigilante,” Karen declared. The words cut deep, the similarity to the conversation he’d had not long ago with Senator Ross striking a cord. 

 

** ~ **

The day dragged on, since the end of the case some months ago nothing had called for investigating. Instead, Karen Page spent most of her days sat at a desk in a bland office. She enjoyed the writing—if there was a good story, but lately, it had been dull people meeting with her about dull stories. So it surprised her when she next checked the clock. She had completely lost track of time. She was about to start packing her things when she got a knock on the door. They didn’t wait for a response and pushed the door open. 

“Karen?” It was her boss, Mitchell Ellison. 

“Yeah?” She replied, only looking up after she finished the sentence.

“We’ve heard caught wind of something on 52nd street, you okay to check it out?”

“Sure, know anything of it?”

“Not much but police have started cornering it off. Saying something about a message that was left.”

“I can head over now,” she wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to grab some action. 

 

When the cab arrived, she saw that many other reporters had already shown up at the scene. Yellow police tape had cornered off the whole section and officers were standing close by. The lights from the police cars illuminated the street, behind one a mass of intricate symbols had been carved into the wall. Several bloodied men were already being escorted towards the back of cars. Their hands were tied up with thick rope behind their backs. That's when she knew to divert her gaze to the rooftops, not the ground. If you weren’t actively looking, you wouldn’t have been able to see the figure. They were crouched upon the ledge observing below. Karen just watched. 

 

It was a good two hours before the cars and cameras began to leave. They left the tape up but the street soon became empty. Just like that. The reporters probably going back to rapidly start on the story. Only when the last person left did the figure move, Karen had sat at a bench of the main setting but she knew they would be able to sense her.

“It takes a crime scene to get hold of you nowadays?”

“It takes a tip off for you to come.”

Karen inhaled sharply. Of course that was him. 

“How have you been,” he asked. She shook her head, “Don’t do that.” He cocked his head slightly. “We used to see each other every day, don’t you ‘how have you been’ me,” she said dryly. He picked up on her tone, she was tired. He heard it, entwined in her uninterested tone. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He just nodded. 

“What did you call me here for Matt?”

“Um, I thought you could help me understand the writing—“ He was cut off by a chuckle, always for a case, but it wasn’t a case anymore, it was just him and an obsession. 

“Sure I will.”

She guided him towards the wall that had been a peak of interest a few short minutes before. He slowly removed his glove and placed his palm on the rough stone. Karen moved it onto the writing. 

“Could you tell me what it looks like? Are they letters?”

“Lines and circles to me, doesn’t look like any regular language,” she studied the sketching, whoever carved it, was determined to leave a mark. The grooves were deep in the stone, the scratches desperate. Like they had been in a great hurry. 

“Matt,” she whispered. He was moving his hand delicately across the wall.

“Yeah?”

“There are two men looking for you, they need your help—with a case.”

“I don’t do that anymore. There are plenty other lawyers in New York.”

“I can tell you now, no one would take their case on.”

“What is it?”

Karen shrugged, “I don’t know, but I know it’s big.”

“We can’t take on another case like that, do you remember what happened with Frank’s?”

“That’s exactly why you should take it on.”

“I _can’t._ I’ve only scratched the surface of this organization,” he motioned towards the writing.

“Would you just meet them?” 

“Sorry Karen,” his tone dropped, she could hear some guilt. 

“Is that it then? We just act like we’ve never met? Ignore each other on the streets?”

Matt let his hand drop to his side. Karen nodded, resigned. 

"Don't you think it's strange that a lawyer firm packed up business after losing a case and suddenly people have spotted an increase of activity from Daredevil? Coincidences are weird."

"No one's going to put the two together."

"It's called balance. People are getting twitchy on why it was shut down, though. Only a matter of time before they start digging."

Matt sighed, she was stubborn. It was why he eventually revealed his identity. Always pushing on the secrets that he kept. He didn't say anything. 

"Right, okay then," a wave of sleepiness washed over her, it was rapidly getting extremely late. She yawned as she backed up, "You know where to find me."

She was several steps apart before he said a word.

"You're right." The words hung in the air. "I do need a balance, but if were going to do this, we need Foggy."

She stopped in her tracks, "Yes we do, in case you decide to run off mid-case," her voice filled with nothing but humour. 

He smiled, it was soft, uncertain.

 

“Well,” she said finally. “I don’t know about you but I'm going to bed. Foggy can wait until tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Karen.”

“Goodnight.”


End file.
